Track, Fight, Kill, Download, Repeat
by Alex Warlorn
Summary: In the end, there will only be one.


We stood there. Facing each other. In the distoryed city. The fires having gone out long ago. The rain pours down on us. We don't notice. We're past noticing, past feeling. All that remains is this. Isn't that right Rika?   
It took years. But it happened. The number of digimon in the universe, and Tamers, and thus humans, was at last reduced to two. It going to happen eventually. As digimon were downloaded by their enemies. Slowly reducing their numbers, chiping away at them.   
Who would of thought it would turn out like on the TV show? Where each human had joined with a digimon? But it didn't end in the utopia did it Rika? No, it never would. Track, fight, distory, download, repeat. That cycle was the definition of your life. What's that American movie? Highlander? Those immortals who fought each over a course of two thousand years, killing each other, taking each other's strength, until there were only two left, and those two, dueled for godhood. Life likes to immatate art huh?   
Why didn't we see it coming? Or did we. And just not care? The link grew strong, oh it grew strong between digimon and tamer, to the point where they were linked even in death. But that data was addtive. I should know. I never harmed Juri or Leomon. At least I have that shred of my humanity left. I tried to protect her always, from those looking for a tamer and digimon willing to fight . . . and die.   
Then you . . . you killed Leomon . . . and in turn of course . . . it killed her. Lee tried to stop this insainty, I guess I have to admire his goals, he could accept there was some times a need to fight. He and Terrimon payed the ultimate price for that conviction.   
All that data. Rougly four billon digimon and human's worth each. Is it any wonder we both went beyound ultimate, beyound mega? This is our battle ground. The final fight. The last two humans and digimon n existence. About to kill each other. And for what? For lack of anything else.   
We speak no words. We need none. We both know what we intend to do. I still remember when Impmon . . . . poor Calamon, he was innonece, and his death marked the end of it, Impmon . . . that was one digimon I felt no remorse deleting, even if I was afraid his data might stink up Growlmon.   
We no longer need cards. We can modify our data with a thought, calling upon the power of our respective victems. For we have long since stopped to be single enities, Renamon and you, Guilmon and myself, we are not pairs, we are one soul with two bodies.   
The clash, the graveyard of buidling shatter from the force of conflicting blow, the Earth itself shakes from the war, for this is no battle, it's armageddon. I wonder, which one of us is the devil? I can't be sure. She sends elementals at us, our armor resistes them all, our blade cuts deep at her light form fitting protecting, her sourceres' staff rings against our helmet with one blow. Mustn't lost, can't lose, won't lose. We ram her hard into the ground, leaving a gigantic impression. I doubt she felt it.   
Data Modify: Omegamon's Tracedant Sword. It cuts deep into her, comes out the other side. She screams in anger and pain.   
Data Modify: Metalseadramon's River of Power. The power blast comes from her hand, armor holds, barly, forcing us and our sword away and out of her.   
Data Modify: Hyper Speed On-line.   
We throw the sword at her, her staff knocks it away. In a blink we're at her throat, taking advantage of the opening the sword made. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Only that our armored claws are now at her neck. Her human self feels them too. Our human self feels pain, even though she is a kill four billion times overs, it is still a pity to see the last of his kind besides himself go. Her digimon self struggles savagly, but she helpless with the claws cutting off her air supply, and the armored mass on front of her, before she can call upon the phyical strength of a strong victem, a great snapping sound ecco's though the raining city.   
  
Takato woke up with a start. Sweet drenching his cloths. He looked down at his sleeping bag, he had told his mother's he was staying at Lee's so he spend the night at Guilmon's hide out. It night out, only the full moon showing light on the park outside. Guilmon was awake as well. A look of distrat and concern on his face.   
"Takatomon . . . you ok?"   
Takato reached out and grapped hold of his digimon, his creation, a part of himself, in a strange way, his offspring. He pulled the reptial close to her, putting the long head against his cooling undershirt, slowly stroking the digimon from the back of his head to the tip of his tail.   
"It's all right Guilmon . . . everything's alright. Everything's just fine . . . . . Don't worry, everything's . . . ok." He was talking more to himself than to his partner. "Nothing bad is going to happen. It was just . . . a bad dream." Guilmon though slighty confused, went back to sleep in his Tamer's arms. Takato followed his example. _It won't be that way . . . . I won't let it._

~Fin 


End file.
